A Farmer's Daughter

When I was still caught up in the early days/weeks of unemployment, I fantasized about all the wonderful, creative, fulfilling things I would tackle with my new found freedom. Walking was the first thing I put back on my daily schedule and the one thing that I have truly kept up. After walking every day for weeks listening to music on my Ipod, I realized I needed something else to keep me occupied as I trudged along the hills and valleys of my town. I then discovered NPR podcasts - my favorite is "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" and for some inspiration "This American Life". I also listen to audiobooks from my library on my old Sony Walkman. One of the most memorable books I listened to was by Barbara Kingsolver "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle".  The story followed a family who moved to Appalachia and lived entirely off their land for a year. It opened my eyes to the way most American families eat - over processed, antibiotic laden food. I knew it was hardly practical to move my family down south, so I chose instead to plant an organic garden in my little part of New Jersey.  After all, at the end of the day, I am the daughter of an Irish farmer who farmed his land in Ireland for almost forty years. This would be my little contribution to the "greening" of my family. Well, the best laid plans can go awry, and boy did they ever. My husband almost passed out from heat stroke planting the garden - the day we chose to plant turned out to be the first 90 degree day of the year. After cooling him off, we planted our seeds in neat little rows and waited. And waited. Watered. Weeded. After a few weeks, we started to see some little green heads popping up. Unfortunately, we were not the only ones who noticed. Before we knew it, some unknown (a least to us) four-legged insects and perhaps a stray bunny or two, found our little plot of land and systematically feasted on it. As the end of summer approaches, our harvest included about six heads of lettuce, five onions, and one green pepper. It is said talent can sometimes skip a generation - I obviously did not inherit the farming gene, nor did I inherit the sewing gene (another story)...perhaps on one of my morning walks, it will come to me.